


Far, far away

by bonetrinket (neer)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Artist Katsuki Yuuri, First Meetings, M/M, Outlaw Victor Nikiforov, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 23:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15375861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neer/pseuds/bonetrinket
Summary: When Yuuri left his home to go on to a never-ending adventure, he couldn’t really imagine how small and imperceptible he is—and all of them are—in the face of the cosmos.But sometimes he wishes he could be even smaller and imperceptible — especially when a group of three heavy armed fireships surrounds his small versatile vessel.





	Far, far away

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to wonderful [@belovedyuuri](https://belovedyuuri.tumblr.com) for beta reading and advice <3
> 
> Written for [@wewritevictuuri](https://wewritevictuuri.tumblr.com)‘s Autotēles theme week - Day 6: Science Fiction  
> And I kinda really like the setting, so, maybe, one day I'll write more about Victor&Yuuri being cute couple in space

The cosmos is beautiful. Overwhelming. Mesmerizing.

It radiates power. Glory. Serenity.

Yuuri has never experienced such peace as in deep, deep space; when he can just drift for days, even weeks if resources allow him, and meet… No one.  There are so many different people, so many different races, so many nations are navigating through dark, _exquisite_ vastness, and still, in the end, they are not enough.

It’s depressing, sometimes.

It’s comforting, often.

And it’s terrifying. All the time.

When Yuuri left his home to go on to a never-ending adventure, he couldn’t _really_ imagine how small and imperceptible he is—and all of them are—in the face of the cosmos.

But sometimes he wishes he could be even smaller and imperceptible — especially when a group of three heavy armed Backsliders fireships surrounds his small versatile vessel. А fighter class ship, yes, but not for fights like that.

Yuuri thinks it’s ironic. He came to this sector to admire the view of an icy planet, still and frozen, with white jagged lines of mountains and deep blue mirrors of oceans. It would be a perfect inspiration for his next diorama, except…

“I suppose you are in trouble,” his computer flight-assistant says in a cheerful, non-caring voice. Yuuri winces a bit; it’s him who set a voice like this the other day, trying to cheer himself up, but it isn’t helpful right now. “Should I call the rescue service?”

Yuuri only sighs. He is too far away for Concord ships to save him in time. And if he tries to call them, Backsliders _will_ find out, and then… He closes his eyes for a second.

“No, Phichit, just—” he takes a slow breath, feeling the adrenaline rush through his veins. His heart races, and his hands are sticky and cold on the controls. Yuuri grits his teeth stubbornly. He spent six years in space, and four of them in such deep dark places, that no Backsliders could even scare him. He isn’t a fighter by choice — in space, sometimes, there is no place for a choice. “Just—”

“Get the guns ready?” he offers, not giving a chance for Yuuri to say anything more. Damn, he really needs to change the assistant’s settings after he gets out of here.

“Just redirect all the core energy into the jump drive, forget about the weapons.”

The fireships seem to wait for something; they aren’t moving, aren’t trying to attack him,so he can try and escape this little blockade.

“A—a—as you wish,” Phichit says, but when a progress bar on the screen starts filling up, all lights blink — and big red letters light up in the middle of the mostly blue command interface.

**ALERT: OUTSIDE INTERFERENCE**  
  
---  
  
“Fuck,” Yuuri whispers, his blood running cold, and before he can do anything, the radio transmitter cracks up with a distorted wheeze of a voice.

“ _...Katsuki,_ ” he hears. No call sign, no anything, just his last name. _What?_ “ _Are… ri… Kats…? Fuck..!_ ”

The static turns into sharp been, and then someone asks with a much more clearer voice: _“Are you Yuuri Katsuki? Personal number EA-29-753-BR-QA?”_ The Backslider sounds really young and irritated—but not threatening. It’s strange; not like Yuuri has a great experience with renegades, but all previous encounters were… rather unpleasant. Also, no one has ever tried to communicate with him — and no one knows his name or number. _“Is this fucker even listening? Hey, are you Yuuri Katsuki, personal number EA-29-73-”_

“Are you a traffic police or something?” Yuuri snaps. Does this Backslider really think he would confirm his personal number to a bunch of strangers who probably want to kill him and take all the goods he’s carrying? Maybe they would even steal his identity…

 _“Wanna die much?”_ the young renegade grumbles. Yuuri doesn’t want to die — but now he is absolutely sure there is no threat in this voice. _“So, yes or no?”_

“...Yes,” Yuuri sighs. What can he do? He is an artist, not an engineer or a soldier; maybe he could break free of this “outside interference”, as his command interface helpfully prompts, but not in a short time. “What now?”

_“We have an offer for you.”_

Yuuri is pretty much sure it’s an offer he can’t decline.

“So you really are not going to kill me?” he asks, just in case. The young Backslider groans; Yuuri almost can see him rolling his eyes.

 _“Of course we will kill you. It’s how offers work, isn’t it?”_ his voice wheezes with static again, but he fixes it immediately. _“You moron. We need you to find someone. You are working on the Sanctuary, sector ISR-331, right?”_

“Yeah, in the Central Space Study Museum,” Yuuri reluctantly replies. The renegade huffs. Yuuri supposes, he doesn’t really care about the exact place.

 _“Great. We need you…”_ The static again. The screen blinks, and for a second the alert sign disappears, showing a blue progress bar.

Is this… The Backsliders’ intercept system malfunctioning?.. Yuuri’s breath hitches. Could he use it to break free and run? He doesn’t care if the Backsliders mean him no harm; he isn’t an outlaw, and he has no desire to work for them, especially when they need him to find a (probably) innocent person.

 _“...Find… he is… of us… what the hell?”_ Another long beep—Yuuri winces—and the young voice repeats, _“Find a man on the Sanc… he’s always… Triumvirate Bar… do anything but get him… your ship and follow the coordina… I’ll send you. Listen, he is a human, tall, blue eyes—”._

Yuuri silently wonders why can’t they just go to the Sanctuary and find that man themselves.

“And if I won’t do it...?” he interrupts, cautiously. He knows he’s playing with fire, but he wants to stall. Maybe, if their equipment really _is_ malfunctioning, he’d—

Another voice cuts through the static; not young this time, but gruff, cold and irritated.

_“We know your name, Katsuki. We know your personal number, and we know your ship signature. So if you are not going to spend your life on the Sanctuary only, you will bring this arrogant—”_

_“Hey, why would you call me arrogant?”_ a new voice—loud, clear and smug—asks. Yuuri nearly jumps in his seat, painfully hitting his elbow on the armrest of his seat, and the Backsliders are silent for a moment—but then Yuuri hears the young one yell, _“It’s fucking him!”_ , and the gruff one commands, _“Get him!”_

The new voice laughs shortly; Yuuri can’t see the source of it, but then a slim and long jet flashes behind the Backsliders’ fireship, and he understands.

Yuuri already knows that guy will be the winner in this battle—if there is one, at least. His ship is small, even smaller than Yuuri’s, and the fireships are too big and unwieldy; he is like a fly, buzzing just out of reach. And he, apparently, can override the Backsliders’ intercept system, because the radio transmitter is only wheezing and crackling, and the command interface is blue again.

“...We are ready for a jump,” Phichit says, and Yuuri can hear a question in his slightly computer voice. “Why are you still in danger?” But… Should he leave this guy alone here with three fireships and with the people who want to catch him?

“Wait, maybe we can help him fight—”

 _“Not gonna fight,”_ that guy says. Well, he is listening to the frequency, apparently. But the alert sign is gone: has he overriden the security system too? _Who the hell is he? “I set the coordinates to the Sanctuary, so just fly to the—”_ There’s a short moment of silence before he continues, _“—to the left and then up and go into a jump. I’ll be fine.”_

He sounds confident. Yuuri weighs up his chances. But…

“But—” he starts, and the guy sighs.

 _“Then sorry, but I’ll do it myself.”_ There is a strain in his voice, but before Yuuri can ask him what he is talking about, his vessel goes left and up, like on autopilot.

“What?!” He tries to take control back, but Phichit says cheerfully:

“Transwarp jump in five… four…”

“No, no, no, abort, Phichit, stop—”

“...three… two… one…”

 _“Have a good flight!”_ the guy in the jet sing-songs, and Yuuri can see him going into a loop right from under main fireship’s nose a moment before space stretches and twists—and the next thing he knows,he’s rushing home in a tunnel of starlight.

And only after the big port planet appears in front of him, does he see a blinking icon of an incoming message.

“If you wanna say hi, gonna be at Triumvirate at 7PM. Ask for Victor ;)”

He stares at the smiley with wide eyes for a moment—and then he smiles himself.

He really wants to thank him, now.

* * *

The Sanctuary is huge. It’s one of there port-planets on the far end of the explored galaxy, the last frontier before the darkness of deep space. There’s always a lot of people of many races and kinds and Yuuri is so, so proud to work for them as an artist, as a historian, who pictures the beauty and horror of the cosmos. His works, his dioramas in the Central Space Study Museum are a grand spectacle of sounds, and colors, and stars, and nebulas, and battles and spaceship graveyards.

He’s proud to picture them in all their glory, and he’s always willing to find more inspiration for more work he could put on display in the Museum.

But this time, when he leaves his small, comfy apartment in the downtown of the capital, he doesn’t head to the big, glass and metal building of the Museum, but to the small and pretty much terrifying bar near the outskirts.

The sign is an acid-green neon, and Yuuri can hear… music—he thinks it’s music, at least. It sounds more like a soundtrack from some cheap thriller—with high-pitched screams, gravelly whispers and shrieks.

That’s—a perfect place for outlaws, Yuuri thinks.

He also really hopes that the guy won’t kill him at sight.

Or that someone won’t kill him at sight.

He pushes the door and goes inside. The music is louder here, more bumping, but the place isn’t crowded now. There are maybe twelve patrons, and most of them are sitting by their tables and drinking.

Yuuri sits by the bar. The bartender is a young red-headed girl, a human; she grins when she sees Yuuri, but before he can ask her about that pilot—Victor, right?—someone touches his shoulder.

Yuuri’s heart jumps.

“Oh god, wha—” He turns and—

He’s mesmerized.

The man in front of him smirks and waves his hand.

“Hi,” he says, and it’s _him_ — it’s really that voice from the transmitter. And he is gorgeous. His eyes are icy blue as the planet Yuuri wanted to see, his hair is silver, shimmering under the lights and the neon glow, and he looks like… Well, like a man wanted by the renegades; Yuuri just _feels_ the strange, subtle power that radiates off him.

“Um… Are you Victor?” Yuuri’s mouth runs dry, and he wets his lips. And blushes as Victor nods, his eyes sparkling. “Thanks for helping me”.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles and takes a seat next to Yuuri. He and the bartender exchange glances, and she starts to pour some cherry-red liquid into two glasses. After a moment, Yuuri realizes that one of them is for him.

“Oh, no, no, no need for—I mean, it’s me who should thank you, so—”

Victor waves his hand. “You got in trouble because of me,” he says, and Yuuri accepts his drink. It smells like lemon and cherry, and is non-alcoholic—or, maybe, it’s just a really soft drink. Yuuri is not a fan of drinking with strangers, but Victor doesn’t look like a threat, even in a place like this.

“Um… why do they need you, anyway?” he asks, sipping his drink. Victor hums nonchalantly. Touches his lip with a finger—like he can’t decide if he should talk about it. Yuuri curses himself for pushing. “I’m sorry, it’s not my—”

“You know,” Victor starts, not smiling, but grinning this time, “sometimes your sworn family just don’t want to let you go.”

Yuuri feels his jaw drop.

Victor laughs sheepishly, and he totally doesn’t look like a person with a “sworn family” of outlaws. He’s way too… beautiful for that, Yuuri thinks. He always imagined Backsliders or other casts of rebels as hard, cold, gruff men—but he was wrong, it seems.

“Don’t worry,” Victor says after a few more seconds of stunned silence. “I left, and… We weren’t bad. Or… _that_ bad,” he coughs.

“Why?”

Victor quirks a brow. “Sorry?”

“Why did you left?” Yuuri asks, and after a moment a faint blush appears on Victor’s cheeks.

He doesn’t answer immediately, but after a long pause and a full glass of the cherry drink, he starts, “It’s you who did that diorama about a colonial war in the Solar System, didn’t you? The one your Museum was exhibiting a year ago?”

Yuuri nods, not understanding why he’s talking about it.

Victor hums. “Well, I was there. Both the war and the exhibition. And I just… I think, I just… realized, that it’s time to leave it all behind and move on with my life.”

For a moment, he looks like he’s deep in his thoughts, like he isn’t telling all the reasons—but Yuuri doesn’t need to know everything. They don’t know each other, and Victor could lie for all Yuuri knows, but it doesn’t matter. Because his heart stops for a moment.

He remembers that work, and he remembers the big, solemn spaceship graveyard he captured in its still, dead beauty. He remembers the wrecked ships, the scraps of twisted metal, and… He can’t connect the image with the handsome, smiling man in front of him.

And he can’t believe this man changed his life because of Yuuri’s work.

“Oh,” he says, his voice small.

“Yeah,” Victor exhales.

They sit there for several minutes and sip their drinks. It’s awkward; it’s so quiet between then that Yuuri can hear the bartender hums along the strange, shrieking music; he can hear patrons by the tables talking in different languages; he can hear his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. Victor is clearly disappointed, but Yuuri doesn’t know if he’s mad at himself or at Yuuri. He finishes the second drink and shifts under the gaze of Victor blue eyes.

“I think I should go…”

For a moment, Victor looks almost sad, but he nods anyway.

In his mind, Yuuri has so many questions. How did Victor know he needed help? What has he done while being among the rebels? What has he seen? What does he do now? Will he come to his exhibition again, or will he maybe asks his comm number? Before he has a chance to ask about any of that, Victor touches his hand.

“Why have you gone so deep in space to see that planet?” he asks.

“I just… I was looking for inspiration,” Yuuri shrugs. Victor’s eyes shine like tiny pieces of ice. Beautiful.

“Did you find it?”

“Well, I was pretty much distracted,” he admits, and for a second, Victor squeezes his fingers.

“Then,” he says, standing up, “how about I’ll make it up to you by showing you something you’ve never seen before?”

Yuuri doubts he can do it. He’s been to the deepest parts of the galaxy, he’s seen so much—but Victor smiles and asks him, “Have you ever seen a real black hole?”

It’s not going to be love at first sight; it’s not going to be love at second one. It’s going to be a love at first giant, dangerous black hole, at first speedrace in an asteroid belt, at first glowing nebula and a bright pulsar.

It’s going to be quiet, unconditional love on the sunrise, when they sit by the lake on a long-forgotten planet, and fierce, passionate love in the depth of the cosmos, with a space storm raging ahead.

It’s going to be hard, painful, wonderful, sweet love—but just not right now.

Right now, it’s going to be only—

“...Actually, I never have.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can always reblog this work or just say hi on tumblr: [@bonetrinket](https://bonetrinket.tumblr.com/post/176125780231/far-far-away-bonetrinket-neer-yuri-on)


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